


Submission and Loyalty

by orphan_account



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Jacobi's self-loathing, M/M, No Kink Negotiation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, This is not healthy, barely repressed emotions, these two are really fucked up, umm other things? idk I'm bad at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12963270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I don't always write smut, but when I do it's just filth.





	Submission and Loyalty

“I told you…to get over here.”

“Sir—”

“Jacobi, are you resisting a direct order?”

Jacobi opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and shrugged. As he began to step closer, Kepler barked out for him to halt.

“But sir, you said—”

“On your knees.”

“Excuse me?”

“On. Your. Knees. _Crawl_ over here. And maybe…if I’m feeling…generous…I’ll let you lick my boots. Without kicking your teeth in.”

Jacobi could feel his ears burning, but he obeyed. He always obeyed. It’s what he was there for. He held Kepler’s gaze as he sank down to the floor. He would do as Kepler asked, but he didn’t have to be humiliated by it. Not unless Kepler told him to. He leaned forward, dropping his head, making a show of rolling his shoulders and swaying his hips as he approached his commanding officer. He half expected to be reprimanded for his bold display, but Kepler said nothing.

When he reached the edge of the chair where Kepler was perched, he sat back on his heels. But before he could look up at Kepler again, a broad hand seized him by the hair, fingers twisting so tightly he could feel some of the roots being ripped free.

“Jacobi, did I say you could get up?”

“No, sir,” he gasped, eyes watering from the sting in his scalp.

“Then what…exactly…do you think you’re doing?”

“Uhh—”

“Down.”

The growl that accompanied the command sent a thrill through Jacobi. There weren’t many things that made him feel alive anymore, but the danger that came with being this close to Kepler was exhilarating.

“Jacobi. What are you waiting for? Do you need an invitation?”

He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be doing here. If he wasn’t allowed to sit up, then Kepler’s dick was off limits for now. All he could reach from here was—ah. The boots. He adjusted to a new position, for more comfortable access. He steeled himself briefly, but before he could become fully aware of how humiliated he _should_ be, Kepler snapped at him again.

“Do it.”

Without thought, he laid his cheek against one of Kepler’s black boots. He rubbed his face against the smooth leather, just for a moment, then turned his head to begin using his tongue. The leather was sour. There was grime on his tongue—it was dry and gritty and he could practically feel Kepler’s smirk radiating above him. He wanted him ashamed? Then he would be enthusiastic. He transferred his attention to the other boot and went to work with a will, sucking and slurping with gusto. He could feel a new tension in the air now. It was a quiet threat. He wanted to know how serious the threat was. Adjusting again, he slid one hand forward to grip Kepler’s calve. Not noticing any immediate response, he licked his way from the toes he had just been laving to the heels, up the ankle, and then began to nuzzle the patch of shin just above the mouth of the boot.

Which was when the other foot connected painfully with his jaw.

“Stick…to…the…task.”

Jacobi sat back, unable to think for the throbbing sting in half his face. Kepler hadn’t really meant to hurt him—if he had, Jacobi would be missing teeth now. But damn if that shock hadn’t gone straight to his cock. He could see Kepler’s leg twitch. He knew another blow was imminent if he didn’t get back to it. He lowered his head and began licking at the leather again…more humbly this time. Apparently, this submission was exactly what Kepler wanted.

“That’s better. Now sit up.”

He did as he was told. His face was on a level with Kepler’s crotch now, and all he wanted was to lean forward and taste it. He tried to hold Kepler’s gaze, but his eyes kept falling to the tented promise right in front of him.

“Ja—cobi?”

“Sir?”

“What…do you want?”

“You, sir.”

“Would you care to be more specific?”

“I want your cock, sir. I want it so deep in my throat that I can’t breathe. I want you to fuck my throat until it’s raw, until I’m too hoarse to speak for a week. Is that specific enough, sir?”

“Is that…all…you want?”

“No, sir. I want you to shove me against a wall and fuck me raw. I want to ride your cock for hours. I want you to tie me down and use me for whatever twisted fantasies you have—the ones so dirty you’ve never told anyone about them. _That’s_ what I want. Sir.”

“Weeeeeeell… I can give you… _some_ of those things.”

He finally managed to meet Kepler’s eyes. His commanding officer was gazing down at him with something which, if he hadn’t known better, he might almost have called fondness. His heart fluttered and a sudden wave of confusion washed over him. There weren’t supposed to be feelings here. He was just there to be used, to obey, that was all he deserved. Kepler only wanted a warm body that would do as it was told. The fact that Jacobi craved this day in and day out was irrelevant; he would take whatever Kepler gave him and it would be enough. But not that. That half smile, that almost fondness, that just complicated what was supposed to be a simple thing. He didn’t want that.

“Strip,” Kepler growled, all traces of a smile gone. Relieved, Jacobi did as he was told. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, but wasted no time in shrugging it off. He hesitated as he fingered his waistband. Was he allowed to stand up for this? Probably not. That would be too easy. He sat back and wriggled out of them instead, more embarrassed about this than anything else so far. A glance up at Kepler’s face when he was finished made it worth it. That smirk meant so much more to him than trivial things like self-respect. In a moment he was up on his knees again, right between Kepler’s still-clothed legs.

“Jacobi, look at me.”

“I am, sir.”

“At my face, Jacobi.”

He looked up. Kepler grabbed him by the chin—not gently, but not a threatening grip either. He turned Jacobi’s face to get a better look at his jaw, still red where Kepler had kicked him earlier.

“You’re too pretty for your own good, Daniel. Maybe a few more bruises could change that.”

Before he had time to process the implications of that, Kepler was on his feet, undoing his belt. Jacobi’s mouth began watering. Kepler had hardly sat down again before Jacobi lunged forward to begin laving at his dick—but Kepler seized him by the hair again and pulled him off, holding Jacobi’s face just inches from his throbbing cock. He couldn’t help marveling at the man’s self-control. In that state, he _had_ to want this just as badly as Jacobi did.

“I give the orders here. And you do not do _anything_ without an order. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Gooood. Now open your mouth.”

He obeyed.

“I’m going to rest just the tip of my cock on your tongue. You are not going to lick it. You are not going to suck it. You are not going to close your mouth. You are just going to sit there, with my dick on your tongue, until I tell you what to do next. Do I make myself clear?”

Jacobi nodded. He had no idea how much discipline he would need for that task until suddenly he could taste Kepler’s precum and realized how desperately he wanted more. He whined involuntarily, clenching his fists to prevent himself from stroking his own aching cock. Then Kepler shifted his legs further apart and the pressure on his tongue increased. Fuck, he wanted to deep-throat this man _now_. Instead, he pressed his nails more tightly into his palms and breathed as deeply as he could around that delicious mouthful. Kepler’s hand was back in his hair, but not pulling at it this time, just…stroking it. Twirling strands of it idly around his fingers.

“You’re doing well, Jacobi. Do you want…a reward?”

Jacobi’s eyes snapped up to Kepler’s face. He couldn’t nod, not without disobeying his orders, but he managed to force out a muffled “yes”. Kepler laughed softly—then abruptly tightened his grip in Jacobi’s hair again and stood. Suddenly the angle was perfect, Kepler’s dick was in his throat. It had happened before he could prepare himself; he was choking on it. He didn’t know if it was the warm, wet pressure of his mouth, or the sight of him on his knees, choking on his dick, but Kepler let out a moan that made Jacobi’s dick twitch in anticipation.

Then Kepler pulled back—Jacobi could breathe again. When he was finished gasping for air, Kepler took him by the chin again, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You want—how did you put it?”

“I wa—I want,” it was a struggle to speak, a struggle to think. “Fuck, sir, just fuck my face so I can’t breathe.”

“Are you sure?”

“Goddamn it sir, just do it.”

Without another word, Kepler pushed Jacobi’s face back onto his dick. He was ready this time. He did not just hold it there until Jacobi squirmed, as he sometimes did. Tonight, perhaps, he had pushed his self-control a little too far. They were only shallow thrusts, but the sliding, shifting pressures on his tongue, the rhythm of the tip pounding against the back of his throat, the blissful ache from keeping his mouth open so wide for so long—it was all he wanted. At first he’d been able to breathe through his nose a little, but as his eyes watered and his nose began running that option was no longer viable. He would run out of air soon. And then, either Kepler would know what he needed and take care of him, or he would suffocate, die sucking Kepler’s cock. Honestly, he would be happy with either outcome. This was the part he loved the most. When his body stopped sending oxygen to his brain, when he could stop thinking, when everything started to go numb and all he could feel was the relentless throbbing in his dick and the exciting uncertainty of whether or not he would die from this.

Kepler apparently could judge to within seconds when he needed to rest. He pulled himself from Jacobi’s mouth with a grunt, and changed his firm grip in Jacobi’s hair back to soothing strokes.

“Breathe, Jacobi. Breathe for me. Good, that’s good. Are you ready?”

His throat hurt, he could only manage a slight nod. He was surprised to see Kepler hesitate.

“Hold onto me.”

“Sir?” he croaked.

“Hold…on.” Was that…a note of concern in his voice? Jacobi raised his hands, more out of obedience than comprehension. Kepler took his wrists and pulled him even closer—gently. Jacobi wrapped his arms around Kepler’s thighs out of instinct.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Waiting for you to get on with it is.”

Kepler laughed. “Mr. Jacobi, hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?”

“I’m not a virtuous guy. Get on with it.”

“Weeeell, if you insist.”

It turned out he had to let go and scoot back just a little to get his mouth around Kepler again, but Kepler would not do anything until Jacobi was as close as possible again. It made a world of difference. There was no room for retreat once Kepler began thrusting into his throat again, no way for him to pull off. He could barely breathe right from the start because his nose was buried in Kepler’s groin. And all the time he felt more stable, more secure, because he had something to hold onto. He dug his fingers into Kepler’s thighs, delighting in the trembling he could feel there. He imagined it was taking all his self-restraint for Kepler to avoid pounding brutally into him, to avoid irreparable damage. He wanted to tell Kepler to just go ahead, to shut him up permanently, but he was too busy moaning and gasping around his cock. He was trying to suck, to swirl his tongue, to show off his skill, trying to please Kepler however he could—but Kepler was not waiting around for that. He had set a sharp, jerking rhythm and was taking his pleasure exactly as he wanted it. And then—then Jacobi felt a pulse in his mouth, a shudder—but before he could feel anything more, Kepler had pulled Jacobi off his cock again. Jacobi tried to push back onto it, wanting to suck Kepler dry, but the hand holding his head in place was stronger than he was. Kepler was breathing hard, visibly fighting to regain self-control.

“Ja—cobi…are you…do you…”

“Sir?”

“Come.”

His dick twitched. Shit. He was going to do this. When Kepler repeated the order, he was going to come without even being touched. That fucking bastard.

“Jacobi, I _order_ you to come.”

The throbbing ache in his cock finally exploded. He threw his head back, trying to get as much mindless pleasure out of it as he could. All too soon, he was blinking up at Kepler again. There was a look on his face that Jacobi couldn’t identify. He looked down, too confused to meet his eyes just now. He’d gotten come all over the pants that Kepler had only pushed down far enough to give Jacobi access. He’d even gotten some on Kepler’s shiny black boots. He hoped Kepler wouldn’t ask him to lick them clean again. Even he had his limits.

“Jacobi, is something wrong?”

“No, sir.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to get back to the task at hand?”

In the brief moment Kepler had allowed him to wallow in his post-high misery, he’d completely forgotten that Kepler hadn’t come down his throat already. He allowed himself to hope that that little scene had just been the warm up act. That maybe Kepler was going to draw this out until Jacobi was throbbing and desperate once more, that maybe then Kepler would be generous and let him touch himself. He did not get to hope for long. Kepler had barely started fucking his throat again before he felt that familiar shudder and knew Kepler was going to come. Then that hand in his hair gripped him painfully again, pulling him off, holding him directly in front of the cock that he wanted so badly to swallow. He hardly had time to register that Kepler’s other hand was milking himself vigorously before he felt the first thick, sticky rope of hot come splatter across his face.

Kepler was moaning openly as he watched shot after shot of his come land on Jacobi’s cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes, into his still open mouth, dripping down his chin. Jacobi had closed his eyes too soon to see the look of hunger that came into Kepler’s expression. But he heard the thump as Kepler suddenly dropped to the ground in front of him. He felt the hand on the back of his neck holding him in place, felt the warmth of Kepler’s tongue licking his own come from Jacobi’s chin. Jacobi gasped—and without hesitation Kepler’s tongue slid into Jacobi’s mouth. Impulsively, Jacobi tried to suck it deeper, to pull Kepler close, to swallow the come Kepler had just pushed into his mouth. His dick twitched futilely. He knew he would come from the memory of this later, but his recovery time wasn’t good enough to take advantage of it now. Instead, he tried to live in the moment, to wrap his mind around the fact that he was making out with Kepler, that even though they had both just come, they were still here, still wrapped up in each other.

But even that was over too quickly. Kepler pulled away, just a little, just enough for it to almost be a shy kiss—then bit Jacobi’s lower lip hard enough to cause real pain.

“Ow,” Jacobi snapped as he pulled away. Kepler sighed and stood up once more. Jacobi watched sullenly, wordlessly, as Kepler tucked himself away and smoothed his hair. It was ridiculous how absolutely in control he could manage to look even with come on his boots, his pants—his face. Kepler stalked to the door, then turned just long enough to command Jacobi to clean himself up, and left.

Jacobi thought about chasing after him, shoving him against the wall and kissing him again. But only for a moment. He knew where he stood in this—was relationship even the right word? Probably not. There probably wasn’t a right word for them. It didn’t matter. Kepler would be gone by now anyway. Besides, he’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he?


End file.
